Answer the Question
by Kerjen
Summary: The day started with running into a bad, former captain, but Saavik faces the moment she knew would come: the Romulans have found out she is alive. Fortunately, she is at an event where they are limited in what they can do, but they are determined to know something about their escaped property. Kirk, McCoy, Spock, Amanda, Sarek, and Valeris also appear.
1. Chapter 1

Klingons. The entire group of them no more wanting to be here than Kirk wanted to see them. The only good thing about it was the thought of putting his fist into one of their faces.

McCoy came up behind him. One look and he understood. "Come on, Jim, I'll buy you a drink."

He searched the big space the Jakuta set aside for the talks and found the bar through the crowd. Actually, he found _one_ of the bars. The Jakutans wanted a conference with the Klingons, the Romulans, and the Federation all playing nice together for a couple days, but they weren't stupid. Alcohol with this group was dangerous enough, let alone forcing them into a tight space around one serving location.

McCoy said, "How much you want to bet the drinks are watered down? Just in case."

Kirk eyed the Klingons grouped around one bar and the Romulans around another. The one he headed for had a lot of Starfleet uniforms. He bet McCoy was right.

"Doesn't matter," he replied. "We can always go back to the ship."

"Not until 'end of session'," the doctor quoted. "Although that's not as long for us as it is for the diplomats."

Kirk looked over his shoulder to comment on that and bumped into Styles. He hadn't meant it, which was why it was called _bumped_ ; in fact, if he had seen the other captain, he'd have run in the other direction. Now he was stuck, McCoy with him, and he tried moving away in another direction only to plow into someone else: Lady Amanda with, of course, Saavik at her shoulder.

He had thought _of course_ because he had heard that Amanda spoke with Saavik's captain, who didn't know the Vulcan at all since she was a temporary assignment for the conference. The older woman had asked for the younger to be assigned to the Vulcan diplomatic party. Based on who was asking, that settled where Saavik would be during the entire event.

He thought about warning Spock's mother to run away, but Styles had gotten wind of a VIP, in very large letters, being nearby. He strutted closer and demanded an introduction, although he worded it as, "Who is your friend, Kirk?"

Kirk sounded like he presented something from the bottom of his shoe. "May I introduce Captain Lawrence Styles. Styles, this is Amanda of Vulcan."

The other captain clicked his heels and bent over her hand. It would have been charming if was not so overly affected, making McCoy mumble he was going to be ill. Amanda had been a part of diplomatic service for too long to show what she thought. She smiled politely and retrieved her hand when she could. Her lavender scarf and dress stood out attractively amongst their uniforms.

Kirk motioned behind her. "And this is Lieutenant—"

Saavik's expression held that piercing disdain that she could manage so beautifully. "Introductions are unnecessary, Captain."

Styles flushed. " _YOU_!"

She nodded once, tightly.

The day just got a lot better in Kirk's opinion, which was exactly what McCoy muttered under his breath. "I didn't know that you two… knew each other."

Styles shouted. "She's lucky she's still in Starfleet!"

Saavik answered Kirk. Of course, she did. "I worked with Captain Styles on the Warp Ten project."

"Where she was nothing but insubordinate!"

She still spoke in response to Kirk, while continuing to meet Styles' glare with Vulcan ice. "The test pilot was killed due to the recommendation to ground the flight being ignored."

 _I remember that_. He had gone to see the launch; he didn't know Saavik was part of it.

"Make that insubordinate and ignorant!"

A sightless, deaf person who didn't speak Federation Standard could read between these lines: Styles had ignored Saavik's recommendation.

McCoy whispered to Kirk, "Even I've never called a Vulcan ignorant."

Amanda gave Saavik a gesture to hand over the padd she carried and began working on it.

Styles refused to give in, so he answered like he had nothing to do with what Saavik said. It made him bank some of his resentment towards Kirk over _Excelsior_ – or at least appear to. The fact no one died over the sabotaged ship most likely helped. "It's always a shame when someone dies on a project. Admirals putting pressure on people so they can have their name on it. I don't get you, Kirk. You were out of it. You were in the top brass, giving orders instead of having to put up with them. No more having to say 'Aye, sir' to every so-called superior, even though you wonder how the idiot ever got his rank. You know what I mean?"

"Aye, sir," Saavik said.

Kirk had to work very hard not to laugh in Styles' face, who seethed even more at her nonplus response:

"I merely agreed with you, Captain."

Styles shoved the end of his swagger stick in her face. Her expression didn't change one bit. "This is over that pilot?"

"He had a name, sir. Captain Torias Dax. A Trill civilian."

"I know he had a name! I also remember you were just a cadet! So why would we ever listen to you?!"

"I found it," Amanda interceded brightly, taking on his act that they discussed nothing more than pleasantries, but she eyed that stick. She read from the padd. "Saavik was assigned for what Starfleet called 'exceptional expertise in warp navigation, exceeding her cadet status to equal superior officers. Along with her strong piloting skills, the Warp Ten project will find her a critical asset.' Now wasn't that nice of them?"

Kirk knew Styles chewed his liver over that, but he wouldn't say it. Not to someone like Amanda.

Instead, he pushed the stick under Saavik's chin and her eyes narrowed. "Test pilots die, _Lieutenant_. That's how Starfleet and everything else moves forward. It's sad but true. The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it."

Amanda put a hand on the threatening crop and pushed it down. Her blue eyes were hard, even with speaking diplomatically to take the sting from the gesture. "Is that a quote or is that yours?"

He waggled his shoulders, puffing himself up again. Saavik obviously waited for him to start saying _It's mine_ , to speak over him. "It is Henry David Thoreau and he did not refer to unnecessary sacrifice based on orders ignoring facts."

Kirk and Amanda both jumped in before Saavik really was kicked out of Starfleet.

"She served with you, didn't she, Kirk?!" Styles shouted. "This is what happens when captains like you coddle their crew! They think they can talk about something to _superior_ officers when they know nothing about it!"

McCoy suddenly got in Styles' face. " _Coddled_?! Don't you know anything about her record? Coddled, he says! What are you even captain of, anyway? Not the _Excelsior_! Not after Scotty handed your arrogance to you on a plate made from your broken engines!"

"Bones!" Kirk didn't need everyone getting kicked out of the fleet. Pretty funny, though.

"Listen to Kirk, Doctor." Styles pushed Amanda back and Saavik's eyes grew darker. "If you still answered to me, Saavik, I'd see you out of that uniform by tonight."

"You, Captain, will never see me out of my uniform."

Kirk plain gave up as his shoulders shook and McCoy put a hand on his ribs as he laughed audibly. Amanda ducked behind the padd and clamped a hand over her mouth.

But the Vulcan skated on the rule book's thin ice, and no one could do that better than her. She hadn't broken any regulations, but she was getting close to giving Styles ammunition for actual insubordination.

Kirk saw another Vulcan woman in a cadet uniform several feet away that frowned in their direction. People crisscrossed in front of her, so he didn't get a good look. On the other side of the room, Spock talked with his father, but they both turned in the direction of the commotion. An aide came up to Sarek to whisper in his ear; they left the room.

Saavik saw reason and kept quiet. To Styles' other comments as he built into a full-blown rant, she simply nodded or said only, "Sir." Kirk began to think she had mentally left the room and moved on automatics.

Then he noticed the subtle firmness and narrowing of her eyes, the movement at the one corner of her mouth. She watched Styles' reaction carefully; still as forward as ever, she'd learned to do it without words. But then, _if you live in Sarek and Amanda's house for a while, you pick up some things._ Like how to stand at the end of a barking dog's chain and need nothing else but _presence_ as an attack.

Kirk grinned at Bones and slightly jerked his head in her direction as Styles fumed against a target that wouldn't, to all appearances, fight back. He didn't know if McCoy saw it too, but then _if you carry Spock's katra around in your head – including all that he knew about Saavik – you pick up some things_.

Worse for Styles, other officers including an admiral turned around at his shouting. They saw a captain screaming at a junior with no apparent cause.

The admiral leaned in, his thick hair the color of a starship against his mottled red face. "Styles, isn't it? For god sakes, man, keep your voice down! We represent the Fleet! She isn't even doing anything! What's your name, Lieutenant?"

"Saavik, sir."

"I commend you on your deportment, Lieutenant Saavik."

"Thank you, sir."

 _Like I said, presence._ Saavik had a boatload of it.

McCoy hid behind Kirk's back to hide his silent laughter. It got worse when the admiral said to Styles, "We can learn sometimes from the juniors. Don't you think so, Captain?"

Styles' knuckles were white on the stick's handle. "Yes, Admiral."

But Amanda… Amanda hadn't lived with Vulcans most of her life for nothing. As mildly as Saavik had answered the admiral, she told Styles, "Will you excuse us? I'm afraid I have an appointment to prepare for and I'm sure I'm keeping you from enjoying the night."

She began to turn, but when Styles did so himself, she sent Kirk and McCoy a rolling eye look before she gathered Saavik and walked away. Kirk grinned and wished he could follow.

McCoy suddenly leaned forward. "Excuse us too. We're supposed to be someplace. In fact, we're late." He just left Styles standing there with Kirk quickly matching his stride.

"Where are we supposed to be?" he asked.

"The bar. I'd be on my second drink, maybe my third, if that idiot hadn't shown up."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Amanda didn't have an appointment either, just a desire to avoid Saavik being dishonorably discharged. She started to commend the younger woman in keeping quiet in the face of being verbally abused when she remembered she _did_ have an appointment: she was supposed to be speaking with Ambassador Umzoh from the planet Arion in the Onteus System. A very new Federation member, one of Sarek's staunchest supporters and a newly made friend, his tall, leathery appearance, but most of all his "devil's" horns spooked people in the crowd. Amanda imagined the poor man had to be boiling here since his large, home continent covered the northern polar region.

So, she instead asked Saavik to check that everything was set for Umzoh's comfort in his quarters and maybe even send over something to deal what would be hot temperatures to the Arion. Since that wasn't a real purpose for a Starfleet officer, she asked the Vulcan to unite the various aides to ensure everything was set between the Onteuseans and their conference with Sarek against the Romulans and Klingons.

Unfortunately, Umzoh himself was nowhere in the room. She saw Kirk and McCoy move away from the bar with their drinks. More importantly, that Captain Styles was gone. She took a champagne flute from a stand and went to them.

"Shall we toast to the lack of shouting?" her eyes as effervescent as her drink.

McCoy muttered, "I'd like to toast to someone taking that stick and shoving it – sorry, ma'am."

"Amanda," she reminded him. She smiled into her glass. "There were a couple good moments."

"Aye, sir," Kirk repeated and his grin couldn't get any bigger.

McCoy chuckled. "I wish I had a recording of his face when she said that. And the uniform thing!" Kirk sipped his drink at that moment making him choke. "I'm telling everybody about that one. …Starting with this person right here!"

Amanda turned and beamed when she saw who it was. Spock looked so handsome in his uniform, biased though she was. He reported on the preparations for the first session in the morning which still had the various diplomats and their aides constantly pulling for Sarek's attention.

"Same as usual then," she commented.

"Amanda," McCoy began, "seeing Spock reminded me. Don't you and Sarek have a big anniversary coming up?"

"Yes, we do. In fact, this will be our last mission for a while. We're taking time off together. Hopefully, the Federation can stay in one piece without us." She looked back through the years to those newlyweds and what they thought their future held. She came out of her reverie and wrapped a sense of her bond to Sarek around her. "I can honestly say I would marry him all over again. I'd marry him again tonight and hope I had just as many years ahead or more."

Kirk toasted her with a soft smile. "Congratulations… and lucky Sarek."

As she sipped, she caught her son out of the corner of her eye. "I would have you again too."

He replied as lightly, "Thank you, Mother."

She smiled into her glass. "One does not thank logic."

He raised an eyebrow.

Some commotion came from the other side of the room but she couldn't see what it was; a common problem with her height. The argument, sadly, was going to be the first of many. The Jakutans took on an explosive mixture for this conference. She saw people move to help. "Unfortunately, I should find my wayward ambassador."

Jim held her off. "Let me." He waved his hand in a _come here_ and an ensign appeared instantaneously. He told the young man to find out about -–

"Ambassador Umzoh," Amanda supplied.

"Report back if he's unavailable." The ensign dashed off with the importance of the very young given a task from a hero. Kirk smirked. "A wave of my hand and an ensign appears. I hope the power doesn't go to my head."

"These drinks sure won't," McCoy grumbled.

Amanda gazed at them loftily. "An ensign. That's so sweet. Now watch." Without even looking, she waggled her fingers over her shoulder. Aides come running. She asked them the same thing, to discover what happened to the ambassador and then check if Sarek's schedule had changed with the new demands on his time. She dismissed them and again gave the grinning two men a haughty expression. "Vulcans, gentlemen, all shapes and sizes. And you had a mere ensign."

"Mother," Spock chided, "the diplomatic party does not exist for you to treat so idly."

"You sound like -" She looked in the crowd and frowned.

"Something wrong?" Kirk asked.

"Someone a little late on their response time?" McCoy teased.

"One is missing," Amanda answered as casually. "The one I borrow from you whenever I can."

Ambassador Umzoh appeared, so she introduced the _Enterprise_ officers. He stood a head taller than them and he frowned quizzically. "Sarek spoke of you too. Something about his arranging for a greater access for you. Is that standard?"

"Umzoh," she touched Leonard's arm, "these are the men who gave us our son back. We'd give them the planet if they wanted it."

He nodded, understanding now, not hearing McCoy mutter that he could use the planet, especially if Spock had to kowtow to him. "Just so. Another thing." He gestured to the other side of the room. "You know I am still learning these things. But isn't that a problem? And the one in the center is yours, correct?"

"Mine? No, Spock is right here. Wait a moment, do you mean…"

He already nodded. "You make this gesture," he did the small wave she had done with thick fingers, "and this particular one then stands here." He pointed down into the empty air at Amanda's shoulder. His people weren't known as literals for nothing and he made up for his new understanding of Federation Standard with the simple talk and motions.

She lifted her eyebrows at her son's friends. "You see? I told you."

"But," Umzoh continued, "you made this gesture," he waved his fingers again, "and she did not come here," into that same spot, "because she is over there where they shout. Is that not a problem?"

Amanda still couldn't see, but she could guess. Styles had followed Saavik and caused trouble. It was a stupid move on his part after the admiral had already dressed him down.

Umzoh shoved an arm between the people who immediately blocked her view and then swiped it back and forth, like sweeping off a light snow from a window. "You know who this is?" he asked them. "Then please to move from her view."

Amazingly, they not only did that, they tapped people on the shoulder right in front of them. It was enough for her to get a glimpse.

Her hand went to her throat as it dried and closed. It wasn't Styles after Saavik.

 _NO._

It was a Romulan.

She registered somewhere in her mind the swift intakes of breath from Jim and Leonard, felt Spock tighten like she did.

Maybe she shouldn't have, not with her diplomatic experience — or maybe she should _because_ of that experience, but she panicked seeing a large Romulan warrior, a Centurion some part of her mind read, pushing into Saavik's hard expression.

A _Romulan_ faced _Saavik_.

Had she even seen a Romulan since Hellguard?

A small – Amanda couldn't tell from here if it was a human man or woman – scuttled away and she rapidly put together what had happened. The human had bumped into the Romulan who didn't take it well.

 _Saavik must have been right there_. And interceded. _Is it wrong for me to think I want to teach her to never do that again_?

Her favorite stray would never listen to that lesson.

Behind the Romulan was an equally large Klingon who said something derogatory. Amanda realized they had been arguing when the human had run into the Centurion.

Saavik began to move away, but the crowd at her back didn't give and the big male didn't either. Amanda got the sickening feeling that some in the gathering didn't move because they enjoyed themselves.

"Then why did you do it?" the Romulan demanded, heated from his argument – and now embarrassment – with the Klingon. "Since you knew it was a – whatever you called it. Damn your language anyway!"

Saavik gave no ground. "It is not my language. And the incident was merely an accident. You have his apology."

Amanda caught the green burning up to the tips of the Centurion's ears. _Please, no!_ They needed help and the ring of onlookers surrounding Saavik wasn't going to provide it.

 _Sarek_! she called and grabbed Spock's sleeve.

"Mother," he insisted. "Remain here." He began shoving with McCoy as Jim ordered people to _move_! She thought she heard him hiss, "If we get through, don't break Saavik's focus!"

Amanda heard what Spock had said, but her brain locked on the scene ahead. She grabbed her dress skirt in her hands and broke into a run, pushing the bodies blocking her.

"You know what else is an accident," the Centurion snarled at Saavik. "This."

He got a half step forward when she struck. He had underestimated her, dismissing her as nothing, and that left him wide open. She hit the arm at the wrist, elbow, and shoulder with rapid nerve pinches; she swept his leg and took out his other arm in the same way. She swiftly came back up and faced the Klingon, keeping the downed Romulan in her view.

"I have no argument with you," she told him.

He bared his teeth and snarled, and then roared as his fist came speeding towards her face with the swiftness of a starship. Amanda screamed or she thought she did; maybe she did it only inside.

Saavik's hands came up and met his fist. The smack of skin on skin hurt Amanda's ears. The Vulcan braced on her feet, shifting her weight to hold against him. His other fist swung in for her belly and she caught it by sacrificing her double hold on his other hand. She began to alter balance to perhaps move her fingers to try nerve pinching his own wrists when he flung back his head and bellowed deeply with laughter.

He kept hold of her one hand and held it aloft with his like champions in a ring – or a prize catch he fished from the water. He yelled to his own people, "Look at this one!"

His additional height meant he lifted Saavik to her toes, but that didn't diminish her in his or the other Klingons' eyes. "Courage! Daring! Unlike the human _baktag_ who scurried away. It deserves respect! The set of," he switched to Klingonese and made a graphic gesture about the anatomy Saavik showed the spirit of even if she did not, as a female, have them physically. "You could smash a Bird of Prey in half with _moQDu'_ like these!" He tapped the Romulan with a boot. "Understand, RomuluSngan? A _Bird of Prey_!"

Apparently, this was the best joke the Klingons had ever heard.

The Centurion struggled on the floor and Saavik instantly freed herself to stand over him. "Do not rise," she warned him, "unless you are willing to call this ended."

The Klingon pointed this out too with more roars. Amanda began to think they looked on Saavik as an amusing pet that got out.

Everyone from everywhere showed up then, so she didn't have to worry about the Centurion or friends of his retaliating against Saavik. She gladly broke through the last line of people, taking the younger woman with her, and saw Sarek arriving in answer to her earlier mental call. She still needed him to make sure the Romulans knew that Vulcan would take it personally if they sought to do what she just thought.

She felt she shook as she came down from the fear and adrenaline. She used what she had learned from the adepts to get a hold of herself.

Saavik looked down at her. "You appear shaken," she said mildly.

"No, no, I knew you had everything in hand." Amanda let out a slow breath.

Those winged brows drew hard together. "You did not believe I could protect myself or the human aide." When the older woman didn't instantaneously answer, Saavik's tone grew harder still. "Is this because of—"

"Stop," Amanda said. She knew what the next word out of Saavik's mouth would have been Genesis and how hard the younger woman worked to advance her martial arts because of it. _My deeply felt thanks to her teachers_. "I thought none of those things. A little skirmish and the Klingons had a good laugh. Although to be honest, I didn't _think,_ which was wrong. After all, a mind clouded with fear is an enemy to itself."

Saavik came down from her own displeasure to chide, "That is not the teaching."

Amanda suddenly noticed some of the unbonded males in the Vulcan party looking at Saavik appreciatively. At least half already knew her and they might be going over a list of qualities in their minds.

Amanda both wanted to smile at them and warn them off. She wasn't sure why she felt that way about the last part.

Yes, she did.

"It's close enough for now," she finally answered Saavik. "Oh, look. Jim and Leonard are coming over too. I wonder what tranquilizers Leonard's carrying."

Saavik instantly went from dissatisfied to disturbed. "Do you require medical assistance?"

The poor dear; she and probably everyone else were thinking of Amanda's collapse after Spock's death. The same son who also came this way, alive, well, and concerned for his mother who hadn't listened.

And Saavik too.

"No, I'm fine. I was making a bad joke. Before we go any further," she drew closer and spoke softly so only those elegantly pointed ears could hear her, "we can talk later, privately, about this." _About you having to face a Centurion, a Romulan, after_...

Saavik's expression also softened minutely, just enough for Amanda to see. The dark head barely nodded.

Amanda again saw her son, only a few steps away now. "Of course, Spock is here if you prefer."

Saavik looked past her and saw him for herself. Amazing how the connection was actually visible.

But they were none of them in private and instead the center of chaos. "So!" Amanda could talk brightly again as she lovingly told Saavik, "Let's take stock of where we are. We've ruined your career and caused an intergalactic incident in… twenty minutes?"

"Eighteen point seven nine."

"No one can call us inefficient."

That was when everything went to hell for the rest of the mission.


	2. Chapter 2

Subcommander Cekula managed to look more aggravated than Kirk had when he saw the Klingons. Pale green eyes over high cheekbones and under thick, slanted brows startled people passing by. "I didn't kill all the people I've killed over the years to get stuck with duty like this!"

Subcommander Toreeth merely answered, "Brag, brag, brag," and took another hearty swallow from her drink. Her shoulder length sable hair slipped out from behind her pointed ears from the motion. She idly combed her fingers through it to put it back in place. She didn't need to, it was cut to stay out of her face, but it was a personal habit.

Cekula yanked her own long, dark auburn hair into a ponytail. "Don't pretend you're happy about it."

"I'm not," Toreeth agreed, her own jade eyes snapping. "That's why I'm already drinking heavily."

"Say something useful."

"That is useful. But, in fitting with your mood, I'd like to know who offended whom that we got stuck with this duty, so I can get payback."

"Or who owed whom a favor. The Commander doesn't look any happier about it."

Toreeth snorted into her mug. "How can you tell?"

Their commander spoke minimally and the joke that was very carefully told in her ships was that she had only three expressions: intense, angrily intense, and intense with a tiny smile because she was going to kill you.

A commotion caused them both to swing their heads where a Vulcan in a Starfleet uniform slammed a Centurion – Vacohk, Toreeth later identified – to the ground. She touched him rapidly along his shoulders and arms, numbing them which became blatantly clear when he struggled to stand up. She had rendered him powerless; he seethed but could do nothing.

"Apparently," Toreeth noted, "he forgot those hands are fully charged this side of the Zone."

A Klingon also got involved, although he turned out to be just testing the Vulcan. Probably, Toreeth quipped in a down moment, to have something entertaining to do.

The Klingons roared their approval and laughter. A slight human woman pushed her way to the Vulcan as did Kirk, Spock, and McCoy from the _Enterprise._ Envoys for the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire hustled to see if someone was taking this to an all-out incident and they all waited for Ambassador Sarek's reaction. But even without his help or in fear of his wrath, both sides agreed to leave it to what it was: a minor, personal scuffle.

That being settled, Vulcans came up in answer to the human woman's dash to the front and a couple admirals and the Terran ambassador also joined them while the Centurion was teased and the Klingons still shouted.

Cekula shook her head, her fair skin darkened with a flush of bronzed green along those cheekbones. "One _Yyaio_ pulls her backbone out of storage and we're supposed to be impressed. _Akhh_!" Music started and she grabbed her forehead as if pain blossomed in her skull. "Not Klingon opera! Not on top of everything else!"

Toreeth pursed her lips. "They're awfully worried about that human woman. She wasn't even involved. Hold on."

"You do not recognize Ambassador Sarek's wife?" came a new voice.

Their heads shot over in that direction. Another Vulcan in uniform — Toreeth was fairly sure it was a cadet's — who stood ramrod straight with her hands behind her back. Her short black hair was swept behind her ears and held in place with a wide hairband. Her bangs went oddly back to the middle of her ears, even shaving the rest of her hair there.

"I would have thought," she continued, "she would be part of your briefing."

Toreeth smirked. "You're the embodiment of Vulcans, aren't you? Including the pole running up your… spine."

That chin came up. "Or perhaps losing disturbs you more than you allow."

Cekula waved at her like batting away an insect, her voice deep and gravelly for a woman. "If anyone lost anything, he did and I don't care. Especially if this is over Lady Amanda and he was stupid enough to try something."

Toreeth considered her mug and gauged how many swallows she had left. She tipped back her head to find out.

Meanwhile, the Vulcan cadet, who didn't seem to get the idea that no one wanted to hear what she had to say, kept talking. "It is also true that Lieutenant Saavik is—"

Toreeth spat her mouthful back into her mug and choked.

Cekula stared, mouth opened and wide-eyed. Then she roared at the top of her lungs, " _IMIRRHLHHSE!_ "

Her volume made it ring in the room and it bounced off the walls. Worse, the Universal Translator picked it up and translated the extreme obscenity into Klingonese and Federation Standard. Something else that made the Klingons thunder with laughter.

Toreeth demanded, "You said _Saavik_?"

"I did."

" _IMIRRHLHHSE!_ " Cekula once more shouted.

The cadet turned her head slightly, gauging the situation. She clearly liked being in the spotlight, even theirs. That didn't matter since she looked down her nose at them – which she had to tip her head back to do because they were a bit taller, especially Toreeth. Her dark eyes shone with cold snobbery. "Impressive. I expected to have to explain my people would not give her a Romulan name, that you had given it to her. As well as needing to clarify Saavik is one of _those_ half-Romulans. The ones your Empire claims were never born."

"They died!" Toreeth exclaimed. She swore she heard the planet was destroyed.

The eyebrows went up. "Apparently, not all of them."

Cekula swore again, " _Faelirh ch'susse-thrai!_ " although she managed to get her volume down.

Still, people began scuttling to turn down the Universal Translators and their Commander glared with leashed fire at them. Toreeth signed back to her as Cekula quivered to go over to the half-blood. But Sarek and Amanda of Vulcan hovered there and so did the _Enterprise_ 's command officers.

Cekula swung back on the young Vulcan. "Is she guest-friend to Sarek's House? Does she have their patronage?"

Something sour filled the cadet's mouth and she straightened coldly. "...Yes. Through Amanda."

What was that? Nothing interesting enough to go into now because of _that_ family's benefaction: anything done by the Empire's officers would be examined and become possible fodder for intergalactic treaty violations. And if _Enterprise_ had an interest in Saavik, it made things messier.

 _Imirrhlhhse_ was right.

Toreeth assessed the Vulcan next to her. She and Cekula were lean lengths of muscle and it showed in how they moved as they stepped closer: predators. _Smiling_ predators. "You know her."

"We have been close associates for 3.47 years."

"I don't suppose you have any insights to share. Something to make up for this death wish you have in looking down on us."

The cadet's voice was ice. "Obviously not."

Cekula's eyes returned to the half-breed. "All of them falling over her because she—" She looked like she wanted to spit again. "And can we shut off the _ryak'na_ _Klivam_ opera!"

The Vulcan looked in this Saavik's and the hated Spock's direction too and Toreeth swore she saw _dinglha'le_ , a _hunger_ , there.

The Romulan smiled with fake innocence. "Do you have Sarek's patronage?"

The cadet's non-answer said plenty.

"Ah!" the Subcommander answered and grinned broadly as she snatched a bottle going by and refilled her drink. After she first dumped the bit she had spit back into her cup into a potted plant near them.

The Vulcan stiffened and then calmed herself, folding her hands behind her back, staring at Saavik. Toreeth saw the coldness become calculating. "It was an impressive feat with the Centurion. However, he is, after all… _one_ Romulan."

Cekula's head swung to her and back across the room. Her growing grin was all teeth and burning eyes. She shot a look at Toreeth, tipped her head to the cadet.

"That's fine, I'd rather watch anyway." Toreeth swirled her drink and flashed her own teeth. "This is going to be too good to miss and I can see it all from back here."

As Cekula left to whisper in her Commander's ear, Toreeth questioned the Vulcan. "What's your name, Cadet?"

"Valeris."

"And how many others survived, Cadet Valeris?"

The disdain again. "I will not give you information, including possible survivors… besides the obvious evidence of Saavik."

Toreeth's grin showed full canines. "Only about her then. Got it. Explains why you _did_ give information just now, on her."

The cadet followed Cekula with her eyes as the Subcommander grabbed other Romulans around the room and whispered fiercely in their ears. Their reactions ranged from stunned expressions to cursing as she had, although more quietly. They began to move and Valeris simply watched them do it.

Toreeth bumped the Vulcan's shoulder with her mug, just to be annoying. "Don't worry. There's not much we can do at an event like this, especially with Kirk and Sarek around."

Valeris lifted her brows. "I am unconcerned."

"Yeah." The Romulan buried her smirk inside her cup. "I noticed."

"Unlike you, I am in control of my emotions."

"Right. That's got to be it. Wait, isn't Valeris a _Klingon_ name?"

. . . .

Saavik heard the Romulan curse like everyone else. She'd already checked on Valeris twice since the evening started; this many Klingons had to be difficult for the cadet who was also her friend. Now Saavik took her eyes away again from Captain Kirk and the others who talked with her to ensure the younger woman was all right with the two Subcommanders close to her. She never signaled she needed rescuing; instead, she appeared to force the one to walk away and the other to move a few steps, grinning into her drink.

Saavik caught Valeris' eye and gave her a nod of approval for handling herself so well. However, what appeared to be true could likely be the opposite, so she turned to tell Amanda, Spock, and everyone else she needed to excuse herself to check that Valeris actually was fine.

It was why she missed the Romulans coming for her.

Most would not recognize it; they simply moved to the presentation area in the center front of the room, but if Saavik hadn't turned away, she'd have known what was happening. Instead, she knew nothing until the first one slipped in between her and the _Enterprise_ officers, including Amanda. The Sublieutenant apologized as he squeezed by, explaining he was getting to the front area. As Saavik frowned at him, someone slammed into her left shoulder sending her backward a few steps. He also apologized for bumping into her, but this time, he lied.

They came at her like a storm-swollen river and with her going against the heavy current. She pushed anyway, but each time she took a step, it meant her foot left the floor and they took advantage. It took less than a minute, but when done, she was in the center and surrounded.

The sound of them, the smell of them, the cunning stares.

Their Subcommander leaped to the podium, the automatic spotlights picking her up, even coming up from the floor. "We're having a quick discussion, so we're using this area provided by our hosts. Our Starfleet liaison will help us and then we'll clear out in case you need the area for yourselves."

The Klingons shrugged it off and turned their backs. So did most of the Federation parties. Amanda, Spock, McCoy, and Kirk watched Saavik, not that she could tell.

 _They_ were everywhere. _They_ filled every sense.

The tactic was well done. No one could complain without giving the Romulan representatives fodder to say they were persecuted for nothing. If someone like Kirk offered to help as another liaison, he'd be pushed out as not needed. If he insisted, he created a situation.

The Romulans formed groups, talking, alternatively laughing and serious, with a multitude of topics but always keeping a common theme to perpetuate the illusion they held a conference.

Now they acknowledged she was there as if they hadn't arranged it. Gapes, stares, glowers blocked from the rest of the room. Some Romulans stayed just past the edge of her peripheral vision. Some stalked behind her back where she was vulnerable.

And she was alone.

The Subcommander stood ahead at the edge of the surrounding force as the obvious gateway to get out. She laughed and sang with a senior Centurion, silver hair running down her back, over the slip of girls they had been, who had treated the Fleet March as a personal anthem, scoring what would obviously be their glorious, single-handed victories against all enemies.

Saavik remembered being taught the March. Like everything else with Thair, Hellguard's Director, the lesson didn't end well.

She had a sudden, horrifying thought. She swept everyone around her for familiar faces; she recognized no one and knew that didn't mean they weren't at Hellguard.

It also didn't rule out… that one of them could be…. her –-

One could be her parent. Her right hand curled as if holding a knife.

No, she couldn't make that hunt, not in this moment. She had to get out of here. She'd escaped their reach before.

Saavik's mind suddenly pulled back and saw the landscape. To run, she needed to clear a path. The group closest on her right: the one man kept turning from his group to speak to the one across from him. If she stepped behind him, allowed his senses to pick up on someone there, he'd turn full around. If she moved with him, he formed a barrier at her back for anyone trying to reach her there. He also opened a space that she could fit through. She'd be at the middle group where –

The path opened to her: feint there, pivot, dodge until she reached the Centurion with the Subcommander. It was the former who made the final part, the way she flung her head back when she laughed, eyes closed, then leaned forward with an arm around her superior's shoulders. It'd bring the Subcommander in closer to the older woman, blocking her view of Saavik.

The groups formed old fashioned cogs in machinery: turn them the right way and it made the others form an escape.

 _Run, Little Cat!_

Saavik started to when thankfully, her mind took a further step back. She saw the full picture, like the map in a war room of the entire battlefield.

She did something unbelievably difficult: surrounded by the enemy who begat her, her personal tormentors, her nightmares, she went into a relaxed parade rest, face calm.

The view in front of her became cluttered with Romulan bodies; they brushed against her again, pushed.

She stood cool and tranquil.

The view cleared to what it had been before except for one large, dangerous change: the Subcommander had disappeared. Saavik _listened_. It was too many voices, too much movement to pick out her antagonist, but she tried. She noticed a hitch in people's conversations, sudden jostles which gave her a theory. She traced it with her hearing and when the Subcommander suddenly reappeared through the group on the right, Saavik turned her head to face her.

The Romulan moved half behind her shoulder and Saavik refused to turn.

The Subcommander leaned in, voice low and mocking. "We did not know you were alive, _Sa'Av Ik_."

"A preferable situation."

"You didn't think you could go into Starfleet and not get noticed sooner or later. Especially not with that name."

"I did not."

"You could have changed it."

"It is my name." Saavik had thought of doing it, but Spock encouraged her to keep it. Then came the final reason when the blocked memories from Thieurrull resurfaced: T'Pren who would have been, had been, her mother had called her it: " _Little Cat, you must always watch the stars. You are like them, brave and bright. Look up. They all belong to you._ "

Any thoughts of changing it got swept away by that.

Hearing it now, with that accent and the derision… it sounded sacrilegious when compared to T'Pren.

"I understand that."

 _A surprising answer_ , Saavik thought. "I do admit I had not expected you to read a file on a lieutenant, even one assigned to a diplomatic party."

That smile defined predatory. "Is that how you think we found you? Not at all, although we'll be reading your file now." The Subcommander looked her up and down. "What about you, Sa'Av Ik? The hands are Vulcan, we saw that with the Centurion. You moved well against him and the Klingon. I'm giving that point to our side. What about that mind? You survived the colony and no one can tell me that you only did it through sheer luck and blind panic. You couldn't meet my eyes and push back the way you are if that's all there was to you." She stepped in closer and the smile turned… curious. Even more measuring. "You see it, the way out of here. You even started to take it, but you stopped. That's interesting because I bet this is the first time you have a group of us filling every space on your horizon since the colony. But you didn't take it."

Saavik did meet her eyes. "I will not run your maze. I will not take your test."

"Why not? You're our property. You and all the others like you that survived. We left you behind, but it doesn't mean we can't come back and claim what's ours."

 _Death first._ "Do you wish for the truth to be revealed? You would give the Federation one more reason for war."

Grin. "I doubt they'd miss one little lieutenant. Some people would definitely be relieved if we took away that nasty …Romulan blood of yours out of their pure Federation."

 _Yes, they would._ Saavik lifted her brows in apparent calm. "Attempt it and we will see."

Cekula looked back with satisfaction and then gave a breathy laugh. "You are still surrounded."

"So I am."

"What do you intend to do? Nothing so passive as to wait for someone to clear the area. Nothing so weak as to have Sarek or the _Enterprise_ save you. So, what will it be?"

"First, I will address your earlier attempt to discover if I am the only survivor of the Thieurrull colony. My silence to your comment did not mean agreement. I merely addressed the larger issue which is the Federation's reaction to four captured ships from a core world. Second, a question." Now Saavik's expression reminded her adversary that Vulcan gave birth to predators too. "Were you there?"

The Subcommander didn't flinch. The two women's eyes warred before she lifted her head. "I don't know why I'm answering, but no, I wasn't. I don't know anyone who was."

Saavik settled back into her former stance. "Third, then. I heard your earlier …comment on the Klingon opera. Not as loud as your reaction to what I surmise was your discovering my existence."

"That's true. I'm not a fan. Of the Klingon music, I haven't decided about you yet."

"Which is why they will believe this." Saavik turned her face from the Klingon area and roughened her voice as she shouted, " _Tivh noDjuv Klivam bequ_!"

Not a nice thing to call a musical piece about Kahless.

Klingons started shoving through the Romulans to the Subcommander, people of each faction squaring off with each other. One stared down into her face. "What did you say, _Hu'tegh_?"

"It wasn't me," the Subcommander dismissed and jerked her head to Saavik. "It was her."

The Klingon looked around his fellow warriors. "She believes we are foolish enough to think a Vulcan would speak this way." He towered over her again. "You are fortunate I do not fight battles with women."

The Romulan bared her teeth back at him. "You are fortunate I don't take advantage of the dozen weak spots in your body armor."

Bedlam broke out, although mostly insults, shoving, and minor altercations; as Toreeth had said to Valeris, there was only so much they could do at this event.

Saavik took advantage of it. Her Starfleet uniform, her Vulcan standing, and the small measure of respect from earlier kept the Klingons off her, and if a Romulan tried, a Klingon seized the distraction.

She gave Amanda, Kirk, and McCoy a reassuring nod, but couldn't stop. A small voice told her to get of the room, get to her cabin where the walls were close and she was safe. Amanda started coming to her but Saavik minutely shook her head. Not yet. _Please understand_. Because if she stopped for any of them, she'd be remaining in the room.

However, she underestimated Amanda again because the older woman was waving her to leave just as she planned.

McCoy stopped Kirk from coming after her and Saavik's eyes found the doctor's; the expression brought home how he knew everything about her from carrying Spock's _katra._ But she hadn't given him that knowledge, so he politely looked away.

They worked with Amanda and the back-on-the-scene Sarek to block the open path behind her. She caught the captain and doctor shouting at the young Starfleet officers jumping into the melee.

She nearly stopped when she saw the one Subcommander remaining near Valeris, but the Romulan signaled she was doing nothing and in fact ran laughing to help her compatriots. Valeris looked calmly back at Saavik like she could never be in danger and then her chin and eyebrows went up in superiority.

 _Since she does not run from the Klingons while I flee from the Romulans._

The truth hurt. But she found Amanda's eyes and led her gaze to Valeris. Amanda agreed with a slow nod; she'd check with the cadet and make certain she was fine.

Saavik looked for Spock covertly from the corners of her eyes, but he was nowhere.

She moved out of the room and to her cabin. The door opened and she let herself pick up speed the last few steps into the haven.

Spock.

He waited for her in privacy. His memories of her had come back for him to know to do this.

Her control showed the damage. He didn't care.

"They were everywhere."

He stepped closer. "I know."

"I knew this day would come, so it has, but I foolishly envisioned it would be a side note to a larger event. Instead, their sole focus is… me."

The bare room was stark. Once it would have been because of her lack of personal items. Now, while she had a few, she didn't bother placing them in the plain cabin because it was temporary. Her belongings were packed for the _Enterprise_.

Still.

Stark, bare, impersonal, the cabin shielded from her persecutors. She could put her back to one of its walls. She reached to do something a Vulcan wouldn't: lock the door. Add to the feeling of safety, of being protected.

Her fingers hovered. Lock the door and she admitted how much the Romulans had gotten to her. She gave them a victory, even unknowingly. She dropped her hand.

Spock moved so close that they touched. He reached past her and locked the door himself. He looked down without stepping back. "The preference is mine."

He did not move away.


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk pulled up a chair where his crew, except for Spock, sat down for breakfast. He spun the seat around and sat backward, leaning on the top.

Their small talk quickly moved to asking if anyone had spoken to Saavik. McCoy said Spock had talked with her the night before and reported she was fine. That brought on what had happened with her and the Romulans, and their shoving match with the Klingons. They ended with how the large conference space had been changed over to a gym for everyone's use, Chekov betting it was to wear down excess energy so there'd wouldn't be another problem.

Kirk went to sip his coffee and stopped with it halfway to his mouth. He looked around them. "I keep meaning to ask all of you. Back on Genesis, when I came on board the Bird of Prey and that Klingon… Maltz - lunged at me, I had a phaser and Saavik grabbed his disruptor." He gestured with his hands, but his eyes twinkled. "What did the rest of you do? You stood there."

"Now, wait a minute, Jim," McCoy protested. "You can't blame Uhura, she was busy terrorizing idiotic officers back on Earth."

"Thank you," she said graciously.

The doctor jabbed a thumb at Scott. "Scotty called that Klingon something pretty nasty. And Sulu glared at him. It was impressive, you must have missed it."

Chekov spoke up, deadpan. "You and Lieutenant Saavik seemed to have it in hand. I thought I'd be in the vay."

McCoy shook a finger in his direction. "Hear that, Jim? That's the kind of judgment you only get with experience. You're lucky you have us."

Kirk raised his mug. "Yes, I am." They clinked cups, but he didn't drink yet. He held his towards Sulu. "May you have as good a crew on the _Excelsior_ and you'll do fine, Captain."

"Yes, I will." Sulu touched his china cup to his mentor's coffee mug. "And I feel better knowing Saavik is coming to fill my place."

"Speaking of her." They picked up on his tone and turned serious. "I have conferences, so I'm leaving it to you. Just… keep an eye out."

. . . .

Cekula and Toreeth waited as their Commander finished what information they found. Their leader was all browns: long medium brown hair with tighter curls and waves than Saavik's, her eyes the same shade against light tan skin.

Saavik was a mystery.

Hellguard was a horror in the shadows even after its unexplained destruction.

"If it weren't for her," Toreeth said, "Thieurrull would be a myth like the Eater of Souls. Instead… instead, it's more a nightmare than I ever thought."

Cekula's nostrils flared. "And any rumor I ever heard."

No searches found records of other survivors or how and when they would have escaped. If they existed, Vulcan protected them and did a damn good job of it. The singular thing the Romulans knew: Saavik was the only one in Starfleet.

The Commander returned to Saavik's military record. The younger woman stared back from her file with clear strength and a challenge in eyes older than her years.

Cekula summed it up. "She's doing good so far and she's returning to the _Enterprise_ soon. It makes me wonder. If she and the others like her were meant to be soldiers… look, I hate the place. But just considering the idea of what she was meant to be – not cannon fodder, not all of them anyway. Thieurrull used too many resources for that. An elite force? An attack force for Vulcan? We don't know, but the day could come when the Empire regrets losing her."

The three Romulans said nothing until Toreeth confessed, "I'm curious. I admit it."

"I'd handle last night differently too," Cekula agreed.

The Commander moved to the next report and she immediately darted her gaze to Toreeth.

"More curiosity," the Subcommander answered and explained getting Valeris' records was easy. Only her name was Klingon, she was a full Vulcan, and her parents had admired the Empire. They denounced their own people and took off for the Neutral Zone with the girl.

Cekula interrupted, "And got themselves killed by the Klingons, right?"

Toreeth nodded. "She's recently garnered Cartwright's interest, and Spock backed her for the Academy. She'd get Sarek's House approval if she stopped looking down her nose at Amanda - I caught her doing it last night, but she's making her play through Spock and Sarek. They all have a blind spot with her… except maybe Lady Amanda. Answer this." She put Saavik and Valeris' records side by side. "If I lived the half-blood life and you lived the cadet's. Would you be jealous of my life on the colony and throw me to a pack of _thraiin_?"

Both the Commander and Cekula stared at her as if her mind had snapped.

"I thought so," she said. "Another curious bit."

Toreeth saw the interest rising in the Commander despite the woman being as much an enigma as the half-breed she studied. Leadership, especially in the Empire, was a heavy dangerous weight, yet she carried it as if it were simple stitching in her uniform.

Toreeth had been there the day they were outmanned and outgunned by the enemy, and the Commander painted a bird of prey in the center of her forehead, her eyebrows forming the baseline for the Eagle's wings. She'd rallied her ships with, "We are surviving this day."

They had. In fact, they were victorious.

Strength made up the Commander's heart, resolve ran down her spine, and the will to survive formed her soul: it made her a warrior, an exceptional leader -

An alpha.

She wanted to know if Saavik was too, if she was the… something she was intended to be. If the cost of Hellguard – in resources, blood, and pain – bore something good despite the stain on the Empire's soul that reeked of dishonor. What weapon had been hammered into shape against Thieurrull's anvil?

Her eyes flicked equally between her Subcommanders.

Toreeth appreciated the fairness because Cekula was involved with the Commander's son. _Good luck to her with that_. Akul was brunette, gorgeous, and his mother's intensity times two. The broodiness wasn't her taste. "I already said I'm curious."

Kirk, McCoy, and the Vulcan diplomatic party walked past them on their way to council chambers. Cekula lowered her voice so Sarek and the cadet wouldn't hear, but she didn't get a word out.

"Commander."

Stunned, all three Romulans spun around to find Amanda coming up to them. Two Vulcan males stood a couple steps to her rear while the rest of her party just realized she'd left them.

The human came up to the taller woman, her face set. "Be very careful, Commander."

Toreeth's eyes couldn't get wider before her head spun to look at her commanding officer. The two Vulcans pushed up behind Sarek's wife while the ambassador and Kirk signaled for extra guards. Seeing that, Toreeth and Cekula drew their Honor Blades, the only weapon they were allowed here, and signaled for their own security.

The Commander's mouth lifted slightly at each end and she didn't use her six-inch height advantage which would be a dominating move. Amanda had a reputation for being petite; she wasn't, but constantly being around tall people made it appear that she was. She was only two inches shorter than Saavik, but it seemed more.

Daring and a respect for it dwindled the height difference between her and the Romulans.

Sarek came to Amanda's side by then, but the Commander paid no attention to him. After all, he wasn't the one to address and threaten her. Her head barely dipped in a bow with that small smile in place and Amanda returned the nod before whisking away with her party.

The Commander smiled without it being a sign that death was coming.

"Unreal," muttered Cekula. She took a breath. "I side with Toreeth. I'm still curious, but… like I said, using different tactics. Orders, Commander?"

In the corridor, Amanda came back for Valeris and they talked too low for Toreeth to hear. The human woman finished what she said and began leaving when the young Vulcan looked down her nose and said something derogatory. The expression was unmissable and Amanda answered it calmly, but she gave Valeris a penetrating glance before returning to the session's chambers.

Toreeth gave Cekula and their Commander an 'I told you so' glance.

Valeris spun and almost plunged into Spock who missed her meeting his mother. They turned and left.

Toreeth smiled. "We need Saavik to come here. I see someone who might want to help."

The Romulans followed them into the large room from last night, now set with gymnasium equipment that included sparring weapons. Cekula and the Commander hung back as Toreeth went up to Valeris.

"Here's my friend," she said kindly. "Where's yours?"

"You mean Saavik," the cadet said in a cold voice. "She is in the Security room for the conference."

 _That works_. "Want to call her down here?"

Valeris turned her back, but hesitated and looked over her shoulder.

"If you prefer, I have another tactic that could do it," Toreeth continued. "So she won't associate you with it. There's got to be someone, someone she'd come running down here for."

"Amanda," Valeris immediately offered.

"True, but then we'd have to get her down here first and risk Sarek's vengeance. No, there must be someone else, someone more important to her than anyone."

Toreeth kept her eyes locked on Valeris' and pointed with her right hand. "Who is it?" She swept that forefinger across people, reading the Vulcan's reactions, her green eyes to Valeris' brown. She had a gift for gauging responses; she saw what people didn't know they showed. "You can walk away if you want." Her pointer touched on Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura, but Toreeth continued with Valeris' lack of reaction, slowly across the Federation section 'til she hit it.

"Spock." Her smile grew slowly. "It's Spock," she called to Cekula and noticed the Vulcan's narrowed eyes across from her. "Calm down, Cadet, we're only talking to him and we're allowed to since he's wanted for crimes against the Empire. You know it's Saavik we're interested in, not him. At least, not for this moment."

The eyes narrowed more, for a different reason. "Subcommander Cekula stated Saavik is Imperial property, one you could claim even now. Is that your intent?"

"Ah, Saavik confided in you, did she? Well, claiming her is difficult. She'd put up a fight and first, I need her to react and get down here, not just think and order Security when she sees us with Spock."

Valeris cocked her head. "She would react, depending on …how you speak with him. If the manner was …reminiscent of the Hellguard colony."

"Understood, thank you. The second problem, she'll be missed."

"…Others can fill her place, in the immediate and extended future. Indeed, they could prove superior."

"Like you?"

"It is a significant accomplishment that I am assigned to the conference while a cadet. Saavik has reached a… noteworthy level, however, I expect to surpass her before I leave the Academy."

"There it is." Toreeth leaned in with a flash of teeth. "That's the answer. She's got it and you want it. All of it. The career, the recognition, the patronage," she exaggerated her mouth's movements, "Spock. I bet the fact she's half-us makes it worse from your viewpoint, her having everything you want when you're pure blooded."

"You are the one who devises these confrontations."

Toreeth went face to face with her. "I'm not her friend."

Valeris looked down her nose. "I have done nothing improper."

"Then why don't you warn her? Why not tell her to get down here instead of us having to use Spock? It'd be less upsetting for her."

The cadet's eyes went to Spock and then stared into the air, calculating, and finally folded her hands behind her back.

Toreeth grinned. "And I'm supposed to be her enemy."

The eyebrows went up. "You stated I have no reason for concern."

"So I did."


	4. Chapter 4

I found out ENT apparently changed Honor Blades to swords instead of daggers in their novels; however, I'm using them as daggers, like they are in other places. Hopefully, that's not confusing. The Talon Blade is based on a fantasy knife by Robert Shiflett mixed with elements I created; the Forge Dagger is based on the Magma Dagger from the AdventureQuest game that I found while researching Vulcan weapons. The lirpa fight is based on Amok Time and the knife fights are based on recorded combat choreography, especially between women, for authenticity.

* * *

Cekula strode up to where a group of Vulcans exercised. They watched her, silently debating if they should order her away until they decided to wait and see. She grabbed a weapon off a rack that had a metal shaft with a fan-shaped blade on one end and a club on the other. The blade was dulled for sparring.

Next to the rack was a board with long, cloth strips with metal balls at the ends to weight them. She let those be for now.

She walked up to Spock, all eyes on her including his shipmates. Only McCoy and Kirk were missing from them. "If it isn't the famous spy." She made it sound like a titillating compliment.

The _Enterprise_ officers drew closer and so did the Vulcans, but Spock stayed completely calm. "We both know I am not your quarry."

"Do we?" She laid her left hand and the weapon's blade on his chest and slid them slowly down, a heated smile playing around her mouth and eyes. Her voice turned into a purr. "Maybe I want to know for myself what I've heard."

He didn't react, but he kept everyone around him from going after her. Her own people saw what was happening and drew closer. A ring now circled the two of them.

"I will not be your bait, Subcommander."

The blade and her hand reached his abdomen. He grabbed her wrists and started to push her away, but she put her weight behind the weapon's blade, to bite into his arm to buy her a little more time.

Cekula wondered if the half-blood would ever believe she was sorry for twisting this particular symbolic dagger into that hybrid heart: she, a Romulan, acting out a seduction on a Vulcan, the one Saavik put above everything else.

Her lover Akul would understand; he'd grin over her simpering seduction of Spock of all people and want to know more about Saavik. He'd be darkness embodied over Thieurrull.

"Perhaps what we know-"

Before Spock threw her off and she could finish her words, another fanned blade slipped under hers and shoved back with a clang of the shafts. Saavik, now armed and in between Spock and Cekula, that Vulcan weapon held easily and aimed at the Romulan's throat.

The Subcommander gave points for the silent arrival.

The dark gaze bore into her. "We finish this. Now, Subcommander Cekula."

Of course, the half-breed had checked out her file. Cekula played innocent. "Finish what?"

"Answering your question."

She added more points for the other woman seeing through the trick and still coming down.

Saavik noted, "Direct methods this time, other than the ploy with Spock."

The Romulan let her mouth curl for real. "What do you say we take the governments out of this?"

The other woman nodded. "Although I did not believe it possible in the Empire." She reached for her uniform jacket closures and next pulled off her undertunic, leaving her in a white tank top.

The Subcommander did the same with the top of her uniform. She picked up the weapon again, finding balance with it in her stance. "Show me."

Saavik rushed her adversary and swiped with her _lirpa_ once, twice, three times, making the Subcommander leap back each time. On the fourth, Cekula blocked with her own weapon.

Saavik sized the situation up fast. They both knew she couldn't win, the Romulan was far more experienced for that and lived in a daily, dangerous environment whereas Saavik lived in the Federation. She instead would be graded on how long she lasted and how well she did it.

She slipped her hands down to hold the _lirpa_ above the club end as she swung this time, extending her reach through the weapon's length. She scored on her opponent's chest.

But Cekula wasn't a green girl, even with the unfamiliar weapon; she pushed back and locked with Saavik at the shafts so she could use her legs. It broke Saavik's balance and the Romulan heaved to get the Vulcan off her feet and then swung with the club. Saavik took a glancing blow on her head, but she ignored the pain.

She returned the favor by swinging up through the other's arms, shoving up Cekula's _lirpa_ enough to catch the Romulan on the chin with the flat of her blade. The Subcommander fell but lashed out to kick Saavik in the stomach.

She retaliated by locking _lirpas_ again, only this time, she reached across and grabbed her opponent's too. She squeezed the shafts hard together, crushing Cekula's fingers and making her drop her weapon. But the Romulan immediately grabbed hold of Saavik's and the two of them fought to win it from the other. Saavik fell backward into a roll and took Cekula with her, flinging the other woman for a distance. She went for the winning blow but the Subcommander was up on her feet fast.

Saavik had the weapon racks behind her. She grabbed an _ahn-woon_. She cracked it like a whip at the Romulan's outstretched hand to keep the woman from her _lirpa_. The cloth didn't work well as a real lash, but it worked enough. She then wrapped it about Cekula's ankles and sent her crashing to the deck. Saavik ran again to get her _lirpa_ at her opponent's throat for the win, but the Romulan got up once more.

She also drew her Honor Blade. "That's enough nostalgia."

Enough of her holding back too. Saavik was no fool; she knew her opponent could have fought back harder. The important question now was, would she be allowed to get a knife or was the Romulan going right for her?

Cekula lunged and Saavik leaped away.

"Saavik!" Spock shouted above the crowd, but as she glanced from the corner of her eyes, he looked to Suhuk who pulled a weapon from a case. " _Lehm ish-veh_."

The young male, intent on the women's match, did as ordered: he threw the knife to Saavik who caught it neatly. She glanced at it for an instant and then almost took a second look, but she had no time.

Suhuk had given her a Forge dagger. Incredibly rare even in ancient times, the well-balanced knife had a small chamber running from the hilt to the center of the blade on top of the fuller or blood grove, with a smaller one running on each side. In PreReform times, the chambers contained molten magma. A master of the knife would strike and release the lava at the right time, turning even a scratch into a deadly injury.

Do it wrong and the lava backlashed on its holder.

The Romulan stared at the dagger herself for one second, symbolic amber stones having replaced the magma chambers. The daggers were still rare.

This one had a dulled edge, unlike the twin blades in Cekula's Honor Blade that narrowed to an almost joined point. One blade for each of the Romulan worlds.

Cekula dominated the first attack this time. She swiped like Saavik had with the _lirpa_ , driving the other woman backward. They half-circled the other, putting Saavik's back to the Klingons who had run up. Everyone who wasn't in the conference was here, shouting, and they increased the circle around the battling women.

The Romulan stabbed for the side of Saavik's head; it ended up being a feint because as Saavik bent backward, Cekula cut her shoulder, although lightly. If they weren't sparring, the Subcommander would have stabbed deep.

Saavik's pain controls kicked in and she unconsciously started healing it. She lured the Romulan in and grabbed the hand holding the Honor Blade. She started pressing the nerves that would make Cekula drop the dagger when the Romulan used her free hand to grab Saavik's knife hand. She lunged forward and headbutted the Vulcan; it couldn't disable her but it kept her from numbing Cekula's hand. The Romulan put a foot on the other woman and shoved, breaking both their grips.

They went at it, one knife meeting the other until Cekula got a hold of Saavik and flipped her to her back.

"I can get this from any of you red jackets!" the Romulan snarled into her face. "You have something different at your core! It's what you were bred for, it's how you survived! Show me what that is or what did the Vulcans die for?!"

She couldn't know about the Vulcans on Hellguard who literally went into death chambers for Saavik's sake.

She used her legs to grab hold around Cekula's neck and shoulders and flipped her. She scrambled away and saw they had reached the center of the big room, near the Romulan section.

The Subcommander got to her feet too and reached for a Talon Blade. The all black dagger had a hand guard formed into an Eagle's wing. The main blade curled like a talon while a back 'claw' went around the wielder's hand.

Instead, the Commander signaled to her and tossed her own Honor Blade to her Subcommander.

 _Damn._

People on Saavik's side rushed to get her a second knife when gasps sounded around the circle and the loudest was Toreeth's because the Commander gave her a pointed look.

The Subcommander's hand dropped to her Honor Blade. "Mine?!" When her argument got her nowhere, she pulled the dagger and reluctantly handed it to Saavik. "Don't stain it! Not with dishonor or with incompetence."

Saavik couldn't believe what she held. The barest touch told her the knife's quality and then, looking down at her hands, she realized what had happened. She, the half-blood, held Vulcan and Romulan weapons, unlike Cekula who had only her own people's.

Saavik caught the Commander's attention; was this deliberate? A psychological move? She couldn't tell.

Sulu and Chekov were at her shoulders, hurriedly explaining what they noticed about how Cekula fought and what Saavik needed to improve.

The Romulan attacked with the style of a left-hand reverse grip and right-hand forward grip; Saavik matched her and this time, they worked harder to prevent the opponent's opportunity of blocking with one knife while slicing at somewhere like the throat or wrists. They each increased speed, trying to get past the other, and their blades became a blur.

Saavik held her own and she wondered how long she could when Cekula locked grips to snarl right in her face, "You're _illogical_." Saavik thrashed to break the hold, but the Romulan wasn't finished. "You throw away an advantage! If you don't care about your own damned life, what about someone you could save! Someday, someone attacks Amanda and you're not there to defend her because you got yourself killed from not using what you could to live!"

She violently threw Saavik back into the crowd. "Show me!"

 _No!_ Justify in the Empire's eyes what they had done? Make use of Hellguard's pain and death like it benefited its victims?

But what if the Subcommander was correct?

Then came the deep click of a tongue to the back of the throat that went through the scales of sound and in different rhythms. Memory blasted through Saavik's shields, memories of Thieurrull and that sound.

Cekula demanded of a Centurion, "What are you doing, calling a _set'leth_? There's none—Oh, _Fates_."

Saavik smelled the dust coating her nose and her eyelids again; felt the starving, real starving, and Romulans putting food a short distance from themselves and making that click, calling Hellguard's progenies. How she hid and stared at the food, needing it to survive, but knowing it meant death until her belly _demanded_ she'd try, that she was fast enough. But before she could, another child did and couldn't beat the blast from the disruptor and the Romulans' laughter.

The click meant becoming target practice. The click meant death.

Saavik searched the crowd until she found him, his oily smile as he repeated the sound over and over. She remembered that face.

Her feet wanted to stamp the ground; her mouth ached to bare her teeth, and the curse she wanted to fling at him lived on the tip of her tongue.

Instead, her eyes burned into Cekula. "Why did I believe you?"

Because the Romulan had sworn no one here had been at Hellguard. She had believed a _Romulan_.

Who swore, "I told you the truth. I didn't know someone in our party had been there."

Saavik heard a Starfleet officer ask Spock, "What are they talking about?"

Chekov and Sulu were back, taking advantage of the break to point out a big vulnerability. "You von't put your back to the Romulans," the weapon officer said. "It is understandable, but she manipulates you vith it by limiting your range."

"Pavel and I will work our way over," Sulu added. "Don't worry that you're alone over there. Spock keeps moving to protect your back too."

Saavik said nothing as she watched Cekula change her hold on her knives. _Does she limit my range of space?_

They both could use that tactic, but Saavik did the reverse. She lunged and danced to make the Romulan push back on the circle with her until it fit the width of the room. They stood opposite each other to the limits of the space, but Saavik had what she wanted.

Final move.

The Subcommander locked eyes and then, both women _charged_ each other. Except Saavik recognized a critical point and she could tell Cekula hadn't. But then, she lived with it most of the time and the Romulan didn't. So when she reached the right point, she kicked off and _leaped_.

The Earth-level gravity was lighter than Vulcan and Romulus, so Saavik was airborne by at least a body length. She twisted in the air ensuring she wasn't killed before she flipped her daggers, so their hilts instead of the blades into Cekula's neck, just as the wide-eyed Romulan flipped hers to stab over Saavik's ribs on both sides, including over her heart.

"Stalemate." A stunned Cekula panted for breath. " _Stalemate_."

It should not have been possible, not with the differing experience levels.

Saavik spun on the Centurion from Thieurrull, daggers ready, and drilled her stare at him like another weapon. He flung his arms wide, leaving his body open, and mocked her by hitting each click hard and deliberate.

"Go ahead," he sneered. "See if you can get the prize before the punishment."

She could throw the Honor Blade in between his eyes; it was sharpened. She could open his throat so he'd never make that sound again.

She'd start a war, just as she'd teased Cekula last night.

Her will had to forcibly push her arms down and walk away. She'd learned the difficult lesson the last time she was at Hellguard: the Federation would pay the consequences of her revenge if she took it now. So she wouldn't.

But she would find a way to track down the Centurion again.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Toreeth making a slashing gesture. The clicking stopped.

Spock came to her holding her uniform shirt and jacket. She gave him the Forge Dagger, then carefully cleaned the Honor Blade and stuck it in her pants' waistband. She rubbed down with a towel that he gave her when Cekula, also cleaning up, crossed over. Saavik could not decide what the Romulan thought.

That voice, could it hold regard? Even a small measure for their… property? She didn't find out because Cekula grabbed her arm, wiping away at the lash marks. "These are healed! How did you-!"

She stopped; the answer was obvious: it was Saavik's Vulcan half. "Maybe we should have stayed on the Motherworld long enough to learn tricks like these." Cekula took a breath. " _Sa'Av Ik_ – Lieutenant Saavik. We're reporting this as a spar with a red jacket in the official file. No one will care about that. But you're in the open now and people talk."

"Then talk of this." Saavik's expression hardened. "I survived. I am on this side of the Zone now. Spock is off limits. These people are off limits. _Vulcan_ is off limits."

"Is that a threat?"

"It is a reminder of what you bred me to do. Heed me. If I am not strong enough today, I will be tomorrow."

Cekula gave her a small smile. "All right. Remember what I said. Don't be illogical." She went to her leader's side.

Saavik got dressed again as the Commander came up to her. The Romulan jabbed at the rank insignia on her jacket. It was the first time Saavik heard her speak.

"Work hard. Get that higher, get your own ship. Then we'll see." Her expression grew animated. "I look forward to it."

Toreeth was behind her and Saavik returned her Honor Blade. The Subcommander stroked it and turned her eyes up to Saavik, her voice both insistent and light. "Now you heed this." She pointed her knife's hilt at Valeris in the crowd. "You need to kill her, now. Immediately. I'd do it as a thank you for all the entertainment, but we know I can't. Don't let this mission end without you doing it. She's got the dagger ready to put in between your shoulders the second you turn around."

Saavik took a deliberate step between the Romulan and Valeris.

Toreeth shook her head, keeping their eyes locked. "You'll regret it."

The Romulans began making their leave. As they passed Amanda, the Commander stopped, the small smile back as her eyes searched the blue ones. At last, she said only, "T'Sai."

Equally regal, Amanda replied, "Commander."

The Romulan called over her shoulder, "Centurion D'Rau, join me."

Their party left with D'Rau talking with a verbal smirk, "I knew it'd throw the half-breed off. It did back then too." He sniggered.

Saavik spoke over her shoulder to Valeris, still maintaining her protective position: "You know I take your word over theirs."

Behind her back, a chilling light glowed behind Valeris' eyes. "Yes, I do."

A sudden bellow made everyone run into the corridor. Saavik spun to face Valeris who was a cadet and, more importantly, would be in tight approximation with the Klingons in the hall. "Return to the ship. I will contact you shortly."

The body of Centurion D'Rau laid face down, a large blood stain growing like an incoming tide, his one arm outstretched in front of him. His Honor Blade stabbed the floor out of his reach.

Kirk came pounding down the hallway. "What happened?"

A dark human woman, the Romulan expert for the _Enterprise_ , knelt by the body. Saavik didn't need her to interpret, but since she didn't want to explain it herself, she said nothing. "He was judged dishonorable by his superiors. That's why his Honor Blade is placed like that. He wasn't worthy of it."

Spock suddenly told the crewwoman to stand still. He approached the knife and read something on the carpet. He pulled the dagger from the floor and moved toward Saavik. He held it out to her. "They give this to you, the one proven to have honor."

She shook her head, staring at it in his hand. When he didn't take it away, she met his gaze and shook her head with more emphasis.

He didn't push her. He handed the Honor Blade to the Romulan expert. "For study and then the archives."

She seized it with bright eyes. "I've never had a chance to hold one of these before."

Neither had Saavik until moments ago. She decided she preferred it that way.

One Klingon seized Saavik by the shoulder and roared in the corridor, "Who commands this one?"

Kirk opened his mouth, paused, and said, "I have and I will again shortly." He eyed the Klingon with a thin veil over his disgust. "Her current captain is right there. Harry, they're looking for you."

The Federation and Klingon factions took sides in the corridor as a middle-aged man strode up the hall. He looked ordinary in every way, but his voice held strength.

"I'm Captain Griffith. What did you want?"

The Klingon told his fellows, "Here he is!" He clapped his other hand on Griffith's shoulder. "It takes a real warrior to command one such as this," as he indicated Saavik. "Excellent, Captain! We look forward to hearing songs of your courage."

The Klingons filed out to their ships, each one pounded Griffith's back that he stood under until they were gone.

"You hear that, Jim? People are singing songs about me. Try not to be jealous."

McCoy smirked. "Songs for commanding someone you don't know. Want us to introduce you?"

Griffit ran fingers through his dark hair. "I needed that when this whole conference began, but now." He looked at Saavik who went to attention. "You do create a buzz in the grapevine, Lieutenant. All good. So, if you're the reason why they're singing songs of my prowess as a commander, I can live with that. Better than a reputation as a bad one."

Saavik found Styles pushing through the crowd to see what was going on; he made sure to be away from Scotty and Sulu when he saw her.

She spoke as she looked back at him. "Aye, sir."


	5. Epilogue

Piece of trivia. If you read my Race of Cain, you know Saavik had a small wood box where she kept a falsified letter from Spock. She got rid of the letter; so what did she do with the box?

* * *

 _Fifty-nine years later_

The Romulans took turns staring and blinking at Kyle Nachson until one Centurion snarled. "Are you mocking us?"

"No, it's too serious for anybody to make fun of it." He was calm despite who he faced. "I know some kids who are partly like you. They're learning this dance that your kids do in the Empire. You know, so they get a good foundation for who they are. They asked me about it, but I'm fuzzy on some of the steps and the guy who taught it to them thinks it's funny to watch me fumble around. That's why I'm asking if you'll help me."

The staring and blinking were turning to narrowed eyes and upper lips curling. The Romulan who spoke earlier did not believe them and he made that more than clear by his hand pulling his dagger. "Children who are part-us?"

"Yeah, they are. I bet some of you have kids or you remember it from when you did it. It's this one," Nachson explained as if that was their problem. He performed a few steps using the available space and the music already playing. He was oblivious to his crewmates gaping as much as the Romulans. "You see, right here. Here's my problem. Is it a spin after the third left step or a half-spin?"

The diminutive Commander Imre, Saavik's exec, pushed to the front, making the Romulans' eyes widen even more. "No one here is trying to disrespect you in any way."

"You take something as simple and charming as a _child_ 's dance and turn it into looking ridiculous and a joke!"

Imre held up his hands. "Please, believe me. We don't want trouble. He's serious about those kids, he'd never make anything about them ridiculous. None of us would. He's just that bad at dancing."

The Romulans continued to be amazed or doubting until one of the older men said to his compatriots, "I believe he's sincere."

"I am," Kyle said. "I don't wanna look bad in front of the kids. That's all." His feet tangled.

"I can't take this anymore!" a young woman Centurion exploded at Nachson. "What are you like in bed if you can't do this?" She grabbed his hips. "Move these! Get some rhythm from the waist down!" and she pressed against him so he could feel what she meant. "Like _this_."

Imre shook his head in disbelief. "They don't teach you this in the Academy." He turned to speak to the large rodent-looking and blind Communications officer. "Bimo, try breaking through the static and get the captain."

"Yes, sir." She leaped on the bar and then behind it, commandeering the comm station from the sweating barman. All other patrons had emptied out of the Frontier bar when the _Contact_ 's crew came in followed by the Romulans.

Just then, the Tran brothers from Earth's Melbourne walked in, having heard frantic people running around. The blonde Jaxon was Saavik's Security chief and his younger brother, the brunette Caleb, served with him.

The older brother leaned into the red-haired, porcelain skinned Kamila Patrik. "What's going on?"

"Apparently, we're all going to get killed because Kyle asked about a children's dance."

Caleb exchanged a look with Jaxon and they both shrugged. "There's dumber reasons to die," and they moved to Imre's shoulders.

Kyle spoke to his dance partner, "We're not still talking about the kids' dance, are we? Because this gyrating is really creepy if we are."

She scoffed. "I'm saving you from a lifetime of cold nights, and you won't live long enough to worry about it if you step on my foot one more time."

Another member of the _Contact_ crew came in, hearing the noise: Thalla sh'Shytral, the Andorian helmsman. She took the place next to Patrik, the navigator, and asked quietly what was happening. It didn't cover the sound of a transporter right outside. A half-beat behind, plus higher and faster pitched, came another transporter, this one from somewhere behind the Romulans.

Captain Saavik strode with calm confidence through the bar's entrance, her dress uniform in perfect lines. She carried a small keepsake box made of rich redwood which she passed to Imre on her left when she stopped.

The Romulan Commander slipped through her own people at nearly the same time. "Captain."

"Commander."

The Romulan's gaze darted around Saavik's. Even with only saying a word each, the respect for the other came through. They sounded like old associates and soldiers who fought in the same campaign.

"It's been a long time," the Commander said.

"Yes, it has."

"You're not going to give me the exact amount?"

"No," Saavik responded pleasantly.

"Thank you." The Romulan used her gaze to point out Saavik's rank insignia. "I didn't think it'd take you this long to earn that."

Saavik lifted her eyebrows. "I did not see a captaincy as part of my path and so I refused it whenever it was offered."

"And now that you have it?"

A gleam came into Saavik's eyes.

"I thought so."

"I do not regret not choosing it until now. That earlier part of my path formed who I am."

The Commander's small smile agreed. "Understood. You seem... settled."

"One matures," Saavik answered. "Or they should, at least. It took time, experience, and relationships. Most recently, one with a Centurion. I finally settled, as you say."

The Commander actually grinned. "You surprise me."

"Another positive then."

The Commander kept that smile. "That past included commanding a ship in lieu of your captain. And you were at the Battle of Tomed."

Saavik lost her lightness. So did the Commander. "I did not command a ship at Tomed. Nor was I a first officer there."

"But you were there. And served well. At least, so the reports read… from people not accusing you of being a Romulan spy."

"Unfortunately, that accusation was made. Fortunately, not by all. Commander," Saavik paused. "I could not tell you this when it occurred. I heard of the loss of Subcommander Cekula and your son, Akul. I grieve with thee. They deserved the long life ahead of them and a better death."

The Romulan's eyes dropped to the floor and Saavik spoke on seeing that. "No one should have to bury their child."

That head snapped up. "The children that are part-us that your man mentioned. They are yours?"

Saavik's features, perhaps, tightened. "Yes, they are. I would prefer the Empire forget Spock and I have children."

They both knew that couldn't happen.

The humor in the Romulan's voice returned as she indicated Kyle and the Centurion. They had wisely stopped dancing when their commanding officers came in. "Your problem child? I believe that is the phrase."

"An apt description. And yours?"

"The one grinding against yours."

They shared a glance of pseudo-suffering before Saavik called him to her, "Mr. Nachson."

"Centurion Laleth," the Commander summoned.

They broke apart, deadly serious and professional about the standoff. Kyle stood opposite of Imre on the captain's right. The Centurion went to her original point.

"Not just captain," the Romulan went on, "but Commander at Vulcan."

"I did warn you that Vulcan was off limits and that I stood on this side of the Zone to enforce it."

"So, this is a formal extension of that?"

"Yes."

The Commander gave a small nod, but the sound of a transporter interrupted everyone. In came a blonde woman with a compact build who hit the ground hard with each step, her lips compressed until they whitened. She invaded the Romulan's space, making the others shift and more Honor Blades were drawn. Saavik immediately came to her side for support and her crew also shifted.

"Dr. Stewart," the Vulcan insisted, "return to the ship. I will manage the situation."

"With all due respect, Captain, I will speak for myself. And take the consequences if there are any."

The Commander hadn't drawn her weapon and she still didn't as Stewart pushed closer.

"You heard her, my name is Frances Stewart. I'm from the _Enterprise_ -C."

Half the Romulans looked back and forth between each other. The rest watched their Commander.

She spoke gravely, "We heard no one from the _Enterprise_ still lived."

"Sorry you didn't get to kill as many people as you thought."

Frances didn't recognize it, but the Romulan's gentled. "I meant it as a good thing. How did you survive?"

Stewart jerked her head at Saavik, but her voice's strength was her anger and her grief began breaking down her front. "She came aboard and brought word on what was happening. But she was sick… she was dying, so my captain… sent me away with her to Vulcan. …She sent me away."

"Or," Saavik interceded, "we both would have been at Narendra III. And died with the others."

The Commander's voice firmed. "Doctor, not everyone supported Dralath's attack. Otherwise, Commander Charvanek and her _Honor Blade_ would not have been there with your crew. If we had been closer, we would have joined them."

Stewart didn't know what to say.

The Romulan said to Saavik, her body tight, "Tomed, Khitomer, Narendra III. What can happen is limited now."

Saavik agreed. "The Empire has been an absent presence."

"The borders are volatile." Her original respect and interest shone through again. "A shame in this instance."

The Vulcan gave her own small nod. "I thought the same."

The Commander's brown eyes swept over the _Contact_ 's command crew. A first officer with dwarfism, a blind officer… "This is really the crew you'd choose to go into battle?"

"If I did not, they would not be on my ship."

One corner of the Romulan's mouth quirked. "It is your shakedown cruise. Is their allegiance on record? Do they choose you?"

Saavik spoke to them. "You are not obligated. Speak your minds."

From the back of the group, a Vulcan male, with dark skin and amber eyes, rose from a chair. It seemed to take his colossal size a long time to stand all the way. The Romulans as one watched with ever growing eyes and their heads bending further back until they nearly rested between the shoulder blades.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Sotraun. Engineering stands with the captain."

A petite dark Vulcan with exotic brown eyes did the subtle shift from normal Vulcan stance to at attention. "Lieutenant T'allendil. Sciences stand with the captain."

They went through every division, Medical, Security, Communications, until it got to the higher officers.

"Lieutenant Commander Kyle Nachson, second officer. Tactical stands with the captain."

Imre had watched each of them speak. Now he faced the Romulans. "Commander Risteárd Imre, first officer. We have an answer for you, Commander. The _Contact_ serves at the discretion of Captain Saavik."

The Romulan dipped her head again to Saavik. "More of a shame then."

Kyle broke in. "Shame you can't have war games with the enemy. Nobody gets hurt, nobody dies, so no governments looking over your shoulder. But you get your answer."

The two women shared another empathetic glance. The Romulan came to a stop shoulder to shoulder as she went to pass Saavik. "Perhaps someday will still come. Then we'll see."

"Then we will see. Before you leave," Saavik held out a hand and Imre gave her the wooden box. "For you."

A Subcommander jumped forward and he snarled, "You open it, half-blood!"

His commander told to him stand down, that Saavik would not use an explosive when her people would be killed. He insisted it could be something else, something only for Romulan blood.

"I don't mind." Saavik then remarked drily over the insulting name he had used. "Some things remain the same." She waited for the Centurion to get between her and his superior, and then she opened the box. She withdrew the Honor Blade that lay inside and offered it to the other woman.

Who refused it. "We gave it to you."

"I cannot. Its meaning-"

"Its meaning is, does a warrior with honor hold it. Period. Do not reject the gift."

After a moment, Saavik accepted it back with a dip of her head. She started to hand the box to Imre again when the Romulan's narrowed eyes had her tuck it under an arm. "I thank you. Please give my regards to Commander Toreeth."

The tension drained away, as much as it could with two enemy factions lined up against each other. "She'll get a laugh out of that. Commander… Nachson?" He nodded. "It's a three-quarter turn after the third left step in the dance. You then repeat it but in reverse, so you return to the starting point."

He smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. I can't wait to show the kids."

Saavik's crew stepped back with her as the Romulans beamed away. She looked around them with a warm gaze. "I thank you for what you said earlier. Imre, tell the ship to beam us up."

He got out his communicator as he said, "I thought she'd jump at the war games idea."

Saavik answered, "She cannot. Not with the Tal Shiar everywhere."

The static surrounding the planet blocked his attempts to reach the ship, so he handed it off to Bimo again. "Thankfully we don't have anything like that."

But his captain's forehead creased. "Don't be so certain. Admiral Uhura has heard whispers from her position as head of Starfleet Intelligence. The shadows may also watch us or this 31 may be rumors. Hopefully, the latter."

Thalla went to Kyle, her antennae shaking as with laughter. "You're fun, Commander. Going up to Romulans to ask about a kids' dance."

He gave her a full blown grin. "Just make it Kyle."

"Yeah, about that dance," Caleb said. "I change my mind. That would be the dumbest reason to die."

Imre nearly shouted, "Captain! The _Contact_ reports the Romulans were moving to surround them and then cloaked! Their commander has a message for you. 'You should have—'"

"Seen it coming." Saavik's eyes gleamed. "Red alert."


End file.
